


Let Me Down Gently

by bowsandmeows



Category: Hat Films - Fandom, Hatfilms, The Yogscast
Genre: A bit sad, Fluff and Angst, Growing Old, M/M, Multi, Urban Magic Yogs, fun times at the park, lots of talking, umy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 14:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7364509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowsandmeows/pseuds/bowsandmeows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Sips grows older, he becomes unsure of his place in the Garbage Court.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Down Gently

Sips was old.

There were times he felt his age more than others. Like now, for instance, as he sat on a rotting wooden park bench watching Ross and Smith tussle in the grass. He ran a hand through the few gray strands of hair left on his head and sighed. Trott, who was sat next to him with his feet lying across Sips’ lap and reading, looked up.

“You alright, Sips?”

“Yeah, my back is just acting up again.”

Trott smiled. “You poor old man. You’re just trying to get me to give you a backrub aren’t you?”

Sips laughed, “Actually I was hoping you’d ask Ross. He’s way better with his hands.”

Trott gasped in mock offense, and shuffled around so his back was to Sips’ laughing form.

“Aw, come on, Trott, don’t be like that!”

Trott shook his head, and fished in his pocket for his phone. It was getting late; he was surprised no one had complained about being hungry yet. He called out to Smith and Ross who had successfully covered themselves with tufts of grass. Ross bounded over to him immediately, leaving Smith in the dirt.

“Can we go get some frozen yogurt?” Ross asked, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Not right now, Sunshine,” Trott said. Ross looked crestfallen, but brightened up when Smith came up behind him to press a gentle kiss to his neck. Sips straightened in the bench and accepted Trott’s hand to pull him to his feet. He swore he could feel every muscle groaning from the sudden movement.

Trott held on to his arm as Sips grabbed his cane which had been propped up beside him. Trott resisted the urge to walk faster and kept in step with Sips’ slow and shaky pace. After Sips began developing problems in his knees, Trott had wanted him to have a wheelchair, but Sips refused, saying the day they stuck him in a chair was the day he stopped giving them his famous blowies. So he was given a cane which Ross painted with bright, swirling colors. It was good enough for now.

Smith had already warmed up the car by the time they got there; Ross sat next to him, humming along to whatever was playing on the radio. Trott helped Sips into the backseat then jogged around the car to slide in next to him. Sips tickled the back of Ross’ neck as they drove, but Ross managed to grab it and kiss Sips’ palm. He held on for the rest of the way home.  
*** 

Trott handed Sips a beer and a lighter before curling up next to him on their couch. Ross had convinced Smith to take him out again for yogurt. Trott could tell something was bothering their king. He was oddly subdued as he lit a cigarette and brought it to his lips with a shaky hand. Trott knew better than to push him, though. If Sips wanted to talk, he would talk.

They sat in silence through some ridiculous action film, both too absorbed in their thoughts to really pay attention. Sips turned off the T.V. and smiled a little at Trott.

“Would you still be up for giving me a massage?”

Trott rolled his eyes, but gave Sips a quick kiss. “Anything for my king.”

They shuffled around on the couch. Sips took off his t-shirt and Trott settled above his hips. Sips sighed deeply and Trott began to rub his hands across Sips’ shoulders. 

“Sips, is there anything… bothering you?”

“I think I’m more of the bother, Trott.”

Trott slowed his hands. “What do you mean?”

“Well… Fuck, Trott, I never thought I’d live this long you know? God knows I’ve done about everything a guy can do to have a short life.”

Trott resumed his massage. “Why is that?”

“I guess I never thought I’d have anybody to take care of me when I got older. I never wanted kids or had much money, so I always figured I’d just live a nice, short life.”

Trott frowned. “But you do have people to take care of you, Sips. We love you.”

Sips turned around and sat up on the couch. Trott moved to face him, and took one of his hands in both of his own.

“I know. I really do. But all I’ve done for you guys in the past ten years is be a burden.” Trott tried to interrupt but Sips swept on. “I mean, how many times have we had to go to the hospital in the past year? In the past month? You and Smiffy and Ross, you’ve still got a long time left. I don’t want you to feel like you have to stick around to take care of me.”

“Sips…”

“I looked at the bill from my appointment last week. It was half of what you make in a month and I’m not even helping you out! I just fucking sit around and cause you guys problems.”

Trott grabbed Sips’ chin and forced him to look him in the eye. “That’s bullshit, Sips.”

“Is it? Tell me one thing I do around here that’s useful.” Sips snapped back.

“You read Ross the news every morning. You keep Smith out of trouble when we go out. You make sure I don’t lose my mind when we fuck up. And we still have incredible sex.” Trott squeezed Sips’ hand, trying to convince him he was being genuine.

But Sips was shaking his head. “None of that is real productive stuff, Trott.”

“What do you mean, of course it is!” Trott glared. “Sure, you don’t go sit in an office all day, bored out of your mind and making fuck all, but you don’t need to. We need you here. I need you here.”

Sips bit his lip, unconvinced. But then their front door flew open and Smith and Ross came inside laughing, the latter with a bit of yogurt on the tip of his nose. Trott squeezed Sips’ hand, knowing their conversation was not over, but that neither of them were up to continuing it tonight.   
Ross came over to the couch and kneeled in front of it, looking up into Sips’ eyes. “You’ve got a little something on your nose there, Ross.” Sips said, and laughed as Ross tried and failed to lick it off with his tongue.

“Come here,” Sips said, and brushed the yogurt off with a finger before pulling Ross up for a kiss. Ross made a happy sound against his lips.

Trott looked over to Smith who was leaning against the door and giving him a questioning look. Trott just shook his head. They all started to move towards the bedroom, Ross scooping up Sips and carrying him to the bed, despite his protests. Trott cracked a smile as Sips attempted to swat at Ross’ head, but he jumped out of the way just in time, giggling.

Smith pushed Trott towards the bed, already starting to undress. “One day at a time, right Trott?”

Trott turned to kiss him. “That’s right, Sunshine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading :) The title is from Adele's "Water Under the Bridge". I imagined Sips to be in his late seventies in this fic, maybe retired for a couple years. Also, Ross' favorite flavor of froyo is watermelon, and he adds an ungodly amount of toppings from sprinkles to slices of strawberries. Please leave comments/ suggestions/ ect. <3


End file.
